Cooking School
by ArcaFeretory
Summary: "That… was pretty sound advice. From Marceline though… Who would ever have guessed?" - AU.


**I'm interrupting your usual viewing today to post something that isn't prompted. **

* * *

It started out simple. A hobby he would engage in on the weekends or as a form of stress relief during finals. When he was little he used to wear aprons as superhero capes and his older sister dubbed him Cakeman. He was always into cooking. Always. It threw some of his friends for a loop and a lot of random people at his school had muttered about him being gay. He wasn't, he just really liked to cook.

His parents were supportive (they were with everything their kids did, even when Bonnie brought home that pierced punk girl). His cooking was pretty tame compared to that. Besides, he was excellent at catering parties.

So it was really no surprise that during college (where he was studying to be a chef and had an off-campus apprenticeship and everything) he applied to a night-time cooking class. Robert was a big fan of baking, specifically sweets and pastries, so this was more for fun than for anything else. Plus his sister was getting thoroughly sick of him commandeering her kitchen at 1am (despite the fact that her girlfriend loved it).

In any event, that's why he had his head bent over a cupcake, tongue sticking out between his teeth while he concentrates on icing it. Today's challenge was sponge-cake. Rob was pretty good at sponge-cake; he had actually spent more time mixing just the right strength of lemon zest flavour into the icing he was now squeezing out in little star shapes on top of the cupcakes.

At least he was concentrating until he was bumped into.

"Oops," the person sang. "So sorry about that. My tray's stuck in the oven."

Robert blinked and looked down (his star shape was now more of a hexagon). He turned slowly, a bubble of icing pooling at the mouth of his squeezer. A girl knelt on the floor wrestling with the oven tray. Her clunky aqua glasses were askew on her face, tawny hair awry, apron twisted at a funny angle across her shoulders. She looked frazzled.

He crouched beside her and pushed one corner of the tray back in, hooking it over the runner. It slipped out smoothly after that. She wrapped her hands sheathed in Pacman mitts around the edges, hoisting it up onto the bench, hipping the oven closed again.

"Thanks," she sighed. "You're a life saver." She punched him playfully in the shoulder and wiped hair out of her face. "Sorry about bumping you. I didn't ruin your stuff did I?" She stood on her tiptoes to lean around him and her mouth twisted into a grimace at his not-star decorations. "My bad." She thrust a hand out. "I'm Bianca."

"Robert," he replied, allowing his hand to be shaken enthusiastically.

"Great. Let me apologise by buying you coffee later," she laughed with a wink. "Just don't forget."

He blinked again. _Coffee?_ Had he just been asked on a date? He texted his sister just in case.

Somehow, he salvaged his hexagon shape… sort of. The last two cupcakes were just about done before his phone beeped. He almost dropped his icing tube he was so surprised. Not that he had any reason to be surprised, of course.

_Oh my god, you're adorabubble, Bubba_, the message read. He frowned at the screen; this is not how his sister would have replied.

_Marceline?_

_Duh. Who else calls you Bubba?_

_Why do you have my sister's phone?_

_… Do you really want to know?_

He thought about that and decided that no, he didn't. _Absolutely not. Is she around?_

_Negative, Cakeman. Do you want me to answer your question?_

Did he? Really? Marceline had a twisted sense of humour. She might give him awful advice. Was it worth the risk? _Yeah, go for it_, he sent. Instantly he regretted it.

_Why don't you just ask her? Is she cute?_

Robert's frown intensified. _Do remember that you're dating my sister._

_Oh don't get your nickers in a knot. Like I'd be so stupid as to cheat on Bonnie. Answer my question. Is she cute? Dating material?_

He tapped his phone against his palm, deliberating over the question. _Yes_, he eventually concluded. _To both of those things._

_So have coffee with her, get her number and make a move. You're a nice guy; one date isn't off the table, surely._

That… was pretty sound advice. From _Marceline_ though… Who would ever have guessed? _I changed my mind_, he said. _Why do you have Bonnie's phone?_

_I'm wearing her pants._

This was not something he needed to know and more regrets piled in. _I'm sorry I asked._

_Yeah well, she took most of my clothes when she left this morning. I had to wear something. The fact that she has no way for me to get in contact with her just sucks. Although I am having a fascinating conversation with you right now._

Robert sighed. _I don't need to know that. Never bring it up again._

_You started it. Will you go out with her? Please say yes._

He scrunched his face up. _Fine, I'll go out with her._

_Yes! Have fun._

It actually wasn't much after that the class ended. Robert packed his cupcakes into a plastic container for the trip home and headed for the door. Part of him was rethinking his decision to have coffee with a girl he didn't know. Maybe he should bail.

He wasn't given the chance.

An arm looped through his and tugged him down the street outside. He gasped a garbled phrase that might have been a question only wasn't.

"Work with me here," the girl said. "You're taller than me; I'd hate to have to drag you."

He skipped a step, tripping over a join in the pavement, before falling into step beside her. He couldn't get his arm free though, so he stopped trying. "Where are we going?"

"Down here. There's a great café. Come on."

When they arrived, she hauled the door open and all but shoved him through. Only once they were inside did she slow down long enough for him to get a better look at her. Now without her apron, he noticed her Space Invaders tee and cargo pants. A video game junky, he decided. Her high-tops had little Yoshis decorating the top too, supporting his theory.

"What do you want to drink then?" she asked, beaming at him.

"Uh…" He scanned the board quickly. "Hot chocolate."

Her smile widened. "Not coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee."

Bianca clucked her tongue. "You're missing out." But she ordered that anyway while he found a space to sit. Then she collapsed into the chair beside him. "So," she began. "Tell me everything. What is a guy like you doing in a cooking school?"

He shrugged. "I like to cook. Besides, what's a 'guy like me'?"

She waved a hand at him vaguely. "You know. You're a big guy; you could've been the star football player in high school."

"I don't play sports," he said. "I've always been pretty uncoordinated." He pointed at her shirt. "Gamer?"

"I own the arcade in the mall," she told him. "And yes. I _love_ video games. I collect them."

"That's really cool," Robert replied, surprisingly honest. "I have quite the collection too, but somehow I doubt it's a patch on yours."

She laughed again, a sound Robert was concluding he liked a lot. "Probably not. I've been hoarding them since I was ten. I'd love to see it though."

And then Rob remembered his question. "Um…" he began. "Is this… Is this a date?"

Bianca's smile widened. "I don't know your last name," she said, head tilted to one side. "But it could be if you want. Unattached?"

"Currently," he said slowly.

"Same."

"Bennet," he told her. "My last name."

"Moe," she replied.

"Date?" he asked again.

"Sure."

He smiled.

* * *

It started out small, his love of cooking. Then he met Bianca and cooking became something else entirely. It was no longer a hobby; it was his life.

Bonnie was only too pleased when he moved out of her place and into Bianca's (who really did have the most impressive collection of video games and consoles known to man). Marceline was torn between being pleased that she could spread out and missing his breakfast cooking.

It _was_ a hobby.

Now it's so much more than that.

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**Also this is now my second favourite AT pairing and it happened accidentally.**


End file.
